To Lay A Trap (Elementals Variation 05)
by Lucifer Rosemaunt
Summary: Short ficlet variations on a theme: elementals, light. Superhero!AU In which Raoul may have gained an archnemesis… but not really. ErikRaoul pre-slash


Title: To Lay a Trap (Elementals Variation 05)  
Author: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Summary: Short ficlet variations on a theme: elementals, light. Superhero!AU In which Raoul may have gained an archnemesis… but not really. ErikRaoul pre-slash  
Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Pairing(s): Erik/Raoul  
Warning(s): AU  
Word Count: 4,032  
Rating: K+

o.o.o.o

Already at the edge of his seat, Raoul glanced at the monitors again and leaned forward. He could sense the amusement of the others around him; they were kind enough not to tease him about his obvious fidgeting though.

In addition to focusing several of their nearby satellites to obtain video and record it for later review, they had hacked into any security camera in vicinity of the fight to get a ground perspective. He knew that the _one_ camera angle you always wanted was the one you never got. Still, the battle was over and all that was left to see was the damage that had been left in its wake along with the first responders and remaining victims.

The confrontation could have gone better. Dozens of civilians' lives had been put at risk and even more property damage had occurred. Luckily, no one on the team reported being seriously injured. Still, Raoul never felt at ease until he had visual confirmation that his brother was safely back at headquarters. He had taken his eyes off the monitors for the teleporter room for just a second and had missed the team's arrival. He tried to stifle the urge to search for him, eyes immediately scanning the other CCTV monitors. Philippe would find him when he could.

Still, the door hissing open had Raoul on his feet. He turned, only to be disappointed to see Flyman sneering at him. The older superhero had been what amounted to a vigilante for years since he had been denied membership to the Corps du Liberté. Raoul had not been part of the committee that had made that decision, but he had heard rumors that Flyman's rejection had been due to possible misconduct that could not ever be fully verified. The steel blue uniform with the small emblem of the Corps over his heart was dirty but still intact, and the lone rope that was his trademark was draped across his chest rather messily, as though he had been too tired to properly affix it.

"Nightlight!" Flyman shouted loud enough to garner the audience he so desired.

Raoul did not wince at the nickname, only giving him the barest of nods as acknowledgment. He had been called worse before and at least Flyman chose to stick within the realm of his codename. "Bad Luck Brightie" happened to be the one Raoul hated the most. He knew what the others thought of him: a useless superhero with a useless superpower, who was never sent on actual missions because trouble had a way of finding him. Superheroes like Flyman questioned his membership, believing he was only accepted into the Corps because his brother was a founder. Raoul was not quite sure he disagreed. He should have come in as a tech, one of the important individuals without superpowers who made sure the Corps continued to function even though the frontline individuals received all the glory. It would have been easier if no one knew he had powers, if he did not have to hide behind a mask, but it was too late for that.

"Go clean up that mess down there," Flyman gestured behind him. "It won't clean itself."

Although he had to fight his own responding sneer, Raoul did not need to be told twice. Any reason to leave the ops hub was good enough for him. As he was passing Flyman, the other superhero muttered, "Your brother's looking for you, Brightie."

"It's Lumos." Raoul found himself rising to the bait, annoyed enough to respond. "I know you've been hit in the head a lot, but even you can get that right."

He strode down the hallway, eyes tracking every movement around him. The doors to the elevator dinged open as soon as he reached them and despite being the only elevator access climbing up the ten storeys, he was alone with nothing but his thoughts. It felt like a lifetime before he stepped into the chaos of the post-engagement environment of the Atria, a large circular chamber just off of the teleporters that served as the heart of the Corps.

The chamber had high-vaulted ceilings and a reinforced glass dome that cast a warmth one could not find in the underground ops center. From the Atria, there were eight total tunnel offshoots to each department, ranging from offices, medical space, and mission planning rooms, but the post-battle teams mainly congregated in the Atria. The vast space was dotted with small circles of either couches and tables, television sets and gaming chairs, large tables and free standing maps, triage stations, and against the walls, bunks. Insular privacy shields were available to be activated with controls to adjust silencing as well as opacity levels for each assembly.

Very few of the superheroes within the Corps had no alternate identity or occupation; therefore, the Corps needed no attached living spaces. The funds received from private donors and the government were spent maintaining the headquarters and employing the techs. Little could be spared to be given to the superheroes themselves.

Despite the protocols in place that had all debriefs occurring within a privacy shield, the bedlam of public relations, medical, intelligence, and other specialists moving about, confirming the salient data of the fight and obtaining the reports of each of the deployed superheroes filled the Atria with a steady stream of noise. Luckily, a path cleared for him as he walked through the gaggle of bodies and his eyes immediately alighted upon his brother's codename on the screen above one of the medical assemblies. He tapped in his passcode to enter, slipping through the privacy shield just as Philippe hopped off the examination table.

Philippe did not look the slightest bit surprised to see him and placed a hand on his head as greeting, mussing Raoul's hair. He waited until the medtech left the station before locking down the assembly and inputting the highest privacy code before tugging his cowl off.

"I was just on my way out," Raoul said, less of a statement than the leading question he hoped his brother would hear.

Philippe simply frowned, running a hand through hair already messy from the cowl. "It was bad." His shoulders slumped and Raoul gestured for him to sit back down. Philippe spared him a smile before dropping down with a loud groan. "We still don't know why Red Death attacked. We don't know what he hoped to accomplish, but you saw the sheer number of bystanders he hypnotized."

Raoul nodded. The villain had been loud and brash, waiting for the Corps to arrive. "He had the upper hand."

Philippe tugged at his torn uniform with a frown, hating to admit, "He did."

"He has it often," Raoul muttered more to himself than his brother, thinking of all the other battles he had been reviewing as of late. Red Death damaged many things, controlled many people, but he never seemed to have an end goal to accomplish. He was not robbing anyone, did not intentionally injure or kill civilians, nor did he have goals of world domination. As to whether people were injured, well, it was obvious the villain had little sympathy for the masses. "It seemed too easy to get him to run."

"That was easy?" Philippe scoffed, indicating the arm that was currently wrapped in bandages. "We tried to minimize casualties. Search and rescue is already down there clearing the rubble, but we could use…"

"I'm going," Raoul stated, hoping to brook all the arguments he knew his brother would have. "I'll be fine," he replied to the frown he was receiving.

"I wasn't going to tell you not to go," he said. "Even I know we need your assistance, and it's not like I can keep you hidden away forever." He added a bit petulantly, "Safe and everything."

"I'll be careful." Raoul could not help but grin.

Heaving a deep sigh, Philippe reached out for his arm and squeezed it slightly. "I know you will." He tugged his cowl over his head once more before lowering the privacy shields. "I'll be down to help after our debrief." He pat Raoul twice on the shoulder before heading towards one of the briefing assemblies.

Raoul watched him go and as he turned, he noticed Flyman and a few other of the new recruits watching him. He ignored their hushed words as he walked to the teleportation room, unable to stop himself from checking to make sure his domino mask was in place. The recruits' looks, hushed words, and the fact that Flyman had been amongst them would surely mean that more rumors would be spread about him. He tried not to think about it as he joined the next wave of post-battle responders in the teleportation room.

It was fortunate that thoughts about Red Death and the worrisome lack of real motivation in his actions managed to occupy his thoughts all through the rubble of what once was a strip of stores in a plaza. Every week it seemed as though Red Death would choose a new city, a new neighborhood and cause unnecessary damage. There had been a pattern before, one that Raoul had easily deciphered, but he had not had the time to even reveal his discovery before that pattern suddenly changed for seemingly no reason.

Alpha and Bravo search teams were focused on the promenade and had yet to make their way through to where he was working. The teams were charged with working with local authorities to ensure every individual received the help they needed. Part-superpowered, part-human, they were some of the best trained individuals in the world. Raoul, on the other hand, generally avoided having to be part of that particular integration. His instincts had always proven to lead him to where he needed to be. Right now, it had led him to these six stores. The one store in the middle, what appeared to be a hair salon, seemed to have taken the brunt of the attack with all the walls crumbling in some manner and the roof caved in. The closer he got to it, the more he was able to determine that what lay haphazardly on top of the store was actually not the roof but a warped billboard.

He worked his way to that point, going through each of the stores that were still standing. Shelves had been knocked over and tables scattered, but at least more of the walls than he originally thought still stood. He came across several scared civilians hiding, shaken, but luckily physically unharmed. Regardless, he pointed them down the block in the direction of the medics present to check on them and the officers to take their statements.

The salon was less easy to find an entrance to. It was completely blocked by debris and though it looked empty, Raoul knew he had to find a way inside. Entering the adjacent store, he was able to find a point where the wall had buckled enough to create a small passage. Not wanting to risk destabilizing the structure further, he dropped to his knees with obvious resignation and crawled into the store. What little sunlight was left of the setting sun was blocked by the billboard. It creaked ominously overhead and Raoul heard the distinctive sound of cement crumbling before he was showered with dust and gravel. He ducked, protecting as much of his neck as he could until everything settled.

When he looked up, he was bathed in darkness, but the dark had never been a problem for him. It took little effort to create a ball of light with a slight flick of his wrist. He grinned at it, always a little proud of his talent. The gentle glow pulsed orange and then a warm red before he pushed it ahead of him. It bobbed gently as it continued onwards, illuminating his path which he noted distantly was clear of broken glass and large impediments.

Pausing when he heard something that suspiciously sounded like another individual, he called, "Hello? Is anyone there?" He strained to hear a response and pressed forward despite not hearing a thing. With a little more effort, he squeezed through a tight spot before it opened up. The billboard hung mostly towards the front of the store, allowing the sun to shine through the ceiling that was no longer there. He stood up, arm raised to block the sun from his eyes as he surveyed the area.

"It's safe now," he said, eyes tracking the ball of light he commanded to float around the perimeter, lighting up the deeper shadows.

Then he heard it, a whimper. He crossed the space, footsteps crunching on broken glass and rounding a ruined display case of shampoo bottles. There, beneath an overturned salon chair and a large chunk of wall, he could see a leg pinned in a growing puddle of blood.

"Please," a woman cried.

"You're going to be alright," Raoul assured, tossing the salon chair aside. He crouched down to see where her leg was pinned. As was protocol, he immediately marked his location with the tracer on his wristband, indicating he was with one victim in low priority conditions. The other teams would be informed but in the grand scheme of triage, they would assist when they had the time. "Are you injured anywhere other than your leg?"

"No, I don't think so. But, but… my leg." She sobbed, and he saw a dust-covered hand reach out towards him. Letting the ball of light drift towards her to let her know he was there, he crouched low and was still unable to see her face.

"Help me, please," she called again.

He immediately reached out to grab onto her hand. "Stay still." He squeezed gently. "I'm here, but I'll need to find a way to get this off you." After long moments of her hand convulsively clutching onto his, she reluctantly released him. "Keep that safe for me, okay?" He gestured to the ball of light and it drifted to land softly in her hand. She closed her hand tentatively around it, as though she thought it would burn her. It would not, but at least she was distracted for a moment.

Standing, he worried for a second, wondering how he would remove the chunk of ceiling by himself. He flicked his wrist and generated another ball of light to better scan the area. When he was just about to give up and call in for reinforcements, he saw a piece of rebar trapped beneath it already. Figuring it was the only viable option, he braced himself and gripped the rebar tight. With the slightest bit of effort, he was able to lever the chunk off her body.

Once it tipped away from them, he could finally see her face, dusty and splattered with blood, a thick line down the right side of her face that was only interrupted by a streak of tears.

"I can't… I can't feel." She gestured to her leg and made to sit up to check it for herself.

Raoul was on his knees by her side immediately, catching her as she began to shudder with the force of her sobs.

"It's…" she tried to speak.

He firmly grasped her arms. "Shh. Lay back. I'll check it. I'm sure it's fine."

She stared at him, wild-eyed and unconvinced, but she must have found something in his expression because she eventually laid back down. She clutched the ball of light to her chest even though her eyes stayed only on him as he moved to look at her leg. One of her shoes was gone and her foot was covered in blood where the small puddle had formed.

"Tell me if you feel any more pain," he said. Rolling up the pantleg of her khakis, he let out a relieved sigh upon seeing there was little more than a scratch on her shin. Gingerly, he felt against the bone, looking for any indication of internal fractures. He grinned at her. "See. There will be bruising and soreness but I suspect the medics will find nothing more."

She pushed herself up to her elbows and flexed her ankle. "But… There was so much blood."

Raoul shrugged. "It's just adrenaline. I've seen it often." He released her foot, placing it gently back on the floor, watching as she flexed her ankle once more, surprised and confused.

He shifted, movements slow and deliberate so as not to startle her. "Let's check out your head."

"My head?" She stopped looking at her leg and reached up to her head. "It… doesn't hurt anymore."

"It's probably just shock." Raoul brushed her hair aside to reveal yet another shallow cut. "You are a lucky young lady. We'll get you to the hospital, go through some scans, and you'll be able to go home. Do you think you can stand up?"

She did not appear to be listening to him at all. She just stared at him in awe.

"Miss."

She physically had to shake her head to refocus on him. Reluctantly releasing the ball of light, she stood up with his assistance. Raoul supported her until he was certain that she could hold her own weight. Knowing they could not go back the way he had come, he shuffled them towards the rear of the shop. They made their way slowly around another chair before he saw a path where most of the rubble was clear and just beyond the crumbled wall he could see the flashing lights of an emergency vehicle.

"Come on." He gently led her towards the path. "There's help this way."

She stared at him alone, following him distractedly but sure on her feet. "Who are you?"

"Lumos," a deep, male voice answered.

Raoul froze only a second before turning, making sure to keep the young lady behind him. He knew that voice even without the added layer of a speaker system. "Red Death."

The villain, clothed in a deep red and black three-piece suit with a fedora that did little to hide the skull mask covering his face, stood atop the billboard. His cape flowed behind him, longer than what should be reasonable to fight in. In fact, he looked as though he had not just recently been in an hours-long fight with the Corps. It was almost insulting. Then again, this was also a man who had been nothing more than a ghost until just recently.

Spending so much time behind those monitors, Raoul knew his emergence as a high profile villain coincided with the increased activity of one of their newest superhero recruits. The extent of his abilities was unknown. Telekinesis was the primary ability known to him, but Raoul had a feeling it was more than that. Matter manipulation made more sense, considering the villain's ability to faze through walls and his uncanny ability to disappear – although that last skill, Raoul was certain, was just theatrics. Then there was the secondary, yet very damaging ability of hypnosis.

Raoul glanced over his shoulder. "Cover your ears and run." The young lady hesitated for just a moment before doing as he had asked. He readied himself, but even as she retreated, Red Death paid her no mind.

"And the mysterious superhero shows up once more." The villain grinned and without warning, jumped off the roof. Raoul started when the other man landed a few feet in front of him, landing with a grace that even had Raoul slightly jealous. The man's grin did not dim. "Little Lumiere."

Raoul did finally take that step back, glancing over his shoulder.

Red Death followed his gaze to the retreating form of the woman leaving the store and with hand out-stretched, he closed the pathway towards the exit. Almost like a puzzle, the rubble shuddered and reformed to create a solid wall.

Raoul took another step back despite the lack of room to maneuver, just to put distance between them. "It's Lumos," he finally said. Mind racing, he was simultaneously trying to categorize everything he learned about this villain while still trying to figure out how to get away. He discretely pressed the panic button that was in the communicator on his wristband.

"What do you want?" he asked, trying to hide the tremor in his voice. Raoul _could_ fight. Philippe would never let him out of Corps Headquarters if he could not, but he had also witnessed a team of four superheroes take on this man with little effect. Then again, Red Death had not cared about putting the bodies of forty civilians between them. Attacking would mean nothing, however, if he had no endgame in mind. Arresting him was the obvious answer, but that seemed as likely as winning a fight between them. He was trapped, essentially. He would either wait for reinforcements or find a way to get far enough away and hope that they could teleport him in time.

The villain looked well pleased with himself and Raoul knew he had to bide his time to leave. In the meantime, he went back to scrutinizing the current scourge of law-abiding citizens. There was little data on him, nothing about his alternate identity, the man behind the rigid, porcelain skull mask. He looked older than Raoul was, probably older than Philippe. At around 6' 2", it was still difficult to tell what kind of muscle mass the man had beneath his suit. Green eyes were piercing and wholly focused on him.

"Oh, isn't it obvious?" Red Death gestured widely. "All of this was for you."

"For me?" Raoul scoffed. "You mean Songbird, right?"

The villain tilted his head and gave him a considering look before the smirk returned. "Just for you," he assured. "I've been watching your career and I must admit, I am intrigued. I was confused as to why you were allowed in the Corps." He approached and Raoul stood his ground. "Besides the obvious connection people often tout. Then, I saw you, saw what you could do."

There was a point in this game of cat and mouse when Raoul was obviously going to run out of space. This would all have been easier if he could figure out what Red Death actually wanted.

"Stay away." He was wary of the villain's interest in him.

"What _is_ your other ability?" Red Death reached out to wipe some dust from his shoulder. Raoul could not help but flinch. The villain remained unfazed. "Time manipulation? Healing? Nothing fits very well or, rather, they both could be true. So, what is it?"

Raoul glared at him and stayed stock still when the man slowly and deliberately raised his hand to wipe his cheek free from dust as well. The cool leather was distracting. "You did all this to know some no name's ability?"

The grin was back. "Little Lumiere, I know _you_ " – and Raoul could not help but tense at his tone and meaningful pause – "and you intrigue me. Would that I discover everything about you, but shall we not start with your secondary ability?" He kept his voice genial.

"There is nothing to discover," Raoul stepped back and braced himself against the wall that denied him any further movement. He told himself there was no way Red Death knew his alternate identity. He would have known. This man was not subtle.

A light chime sounded, one he was glad Red Death was too focused to respond to.

"My only ability," Raoul braced himself. This was going to tire him out, "is this." He tensed, tugged at that bright spot in his mind and held tight, held his breath as the pressure built and when he finally let go, something akin to a supernova burst free with enough force that the villain actually stumbled a few steps back, tripping over an overturned chair and stumbling ungracefully as his cloak tangled his legs.

Raoul pushed off the wall and ran towards what looked to give him the most space. He did not run very far before the teleportation started to take hold.

Before he was fully taken, he heard Red Death laugh.

"Until next time, my Little Lumiere."

o.o.o.o

End ficlet

A/N: Yes. Superheroes. :D You can probably guess who Songbird is and Red Death totally did start doing things to get her attention. The Corps is this weird form of government approved, privately owned although partially governmentally supported institution. There's a story behind why everyone knows Lumos and one of the founding superheroes of the Corps are related. Raoul can't help but shout "brother" every now and then in the heat of battle. It's better than calling him Philippe. Their identities are still hidden. The Chagnys are rather rich, and Erik's lair may very well still be underneath the opera house and they still may very well have contact with each other on a non-superhero basis. Who knows? ;3

Fic Review: So began the start of Red Death wreaking havoc and everyone knows that it's just so that Raoul is lured out. And it's great because Erik literally does everything that would be related to needing Raoul. Random city blocks of Paris will suddenly have absolutely no electricity and Raoul takes some of the strain off the generators by lighting those locations himself until it starts to focus on hospitals and prisons. Of course when they still cannot get the power back on, Raoul gives in and against Pip's wishes goes to speak with Red Death. Of course keeping several buildings lit indefinitely exhausts Raoul to the point that he may or may not pass out in Erik's presence. ;) And Erik may just be a gentleman, takes care of him while still allowing him to keep his identity intact. (Erik would rather Lumos just tell him who he is. While at the same time, Erik's and Raoul's interactions in their unmasked lives have gotten interesting as well. You ask how Raoul does not make a connection between two masked individuals with the same body type? … Well, don't ask too many questions. :P)

Erik has not stopped asking about Raoul's secondary abilities but it's mostly an afterthought. Red Death has taken to teasing him and taunting him and getting him riled up, getting all up in his personal space. He just enjoys teasing Raoul. And that prized secondary ability is one that only Phillipe fully knows about. Others may have an inkling about it, but it's also the reason that Raoul's not a field superhero. He cannot quite control it.


End file.
